Fracture Patterns
by DreamingIce
Summary: The aftermath of war as seen through the lives of the Gryffindor students of '91-98'. Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Hermione, Neville, Parvarti, Ron, Harry. Chapter 3-Lavender: Torn Asunder
1. Seamus: These Fresh Scars

**Title:** Fracture Patterns  
><strong>Era: <strong>Post Battle of Hogwarts  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Hermione, Neville, Parvarti, Ron, Harry.  
><strong>Summary: <strong>The aftermath of war as seen through the lives of the Gryffindor students of '91-98'.

**Notes:** I thought it time that the Gryffindor yearmates had a little love. All of them, not just Harry. (Though all the trio will be included) This will be 8 introspective pieces on the impact of the war and the final battle on our hardy band of Gryffindors. Mostly in a time stream progressively further and further post-battle. Overlap will apply. And yes, I may have taken some liberty with the characters killed in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Seamus is first up. Enjoy.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: These Fresh Scars<strong>

In the aftermath of the battle, Seamus barely recognises his surroundings. The Great Hall is only recognisable by the enchanted ceiling, now showing the dawn breaking through the clouds. Frankly, he'd rather keep looking up at the false sky than face the devastation below it. The rubble, he knew, extended throughout the castle, and parts of the grounds, including the decimated walkway which was brought down with his handiwork. As did the scorch marks of missed curses littering the walls and even the rubble. The stretchers were the worst.

Row upon row were laid out on the floor in macabre fashion. –_His mind flashes to third year's impromptu sleep out. He was buzzing with adrenaline and pretended to sleep as Percy Weasley wandered past shushing whispering students. He and the boys from the dorm are discussing what's happened. Harry is pretty quiet, but Dean and Neville were sprouting some pretty wacky theories on Black's entry_- Seamus shakes off the stray memory. The closest end of the hall holds the injured battlers, Madame Pomfrey rushing around, a few students and professors she'd enlisted helping her.

Seamus isn't sure how he's managed to escape being part of that line up, or even worse, the lines at the other end of the hall, where the silence is a heavy blanket.

He should be with his friends, his mother, celebrating. Instead he finds himself drawn to the silent lines

Colin Creevey is one of the first he recognises. The bright bubbly Gryffindor seems so small in death. _-The blond boy running across the grounds with his camera, enthusiasm oozing from every inch of his body as he followed Harry- _Dennis Creevey has returned, in a state of disbelief that his idolised older is gone. Michael Corner is another row over, blood matting his dark hair, Leanne is there too, skin bleached pale. Continuing, he sees Parvati, her hand clasped tight with her twin's as she holds vigil over Padma's fallen body. His yearmate doesn't even acknowledge him. A flash of red further along reveals Fred Weasley. Like Parvati, George has not left his twin's side. He sits with his head buried in his hands, Percy watching over his younger brother. Remus Lupin, his favourite of the various Defence teachers they'd had. His Auror wife was beside him. Someone had left their hands entwined. He knew that the two of them had just had a son, and the burning at the back of his throat intensifies.

Then he sees his best friend.

It's unfair. Dean had survived the rest of the year, dodged the snatchers, survived capture, only to die here at Hogwarts. Seamus hoped that the Death Eater responsible was one of those taken down.

He'd missed Dean this year. More than he'd realised he would. It had been weird with only Neville and himself in the dorm, well, until they had been driven to hiding in the Room of Requirement. Sure all five of the boys had gotten on quite well for the most part, the misunderstandings between Seamus and Harry during fifth year aside. But the missing three had left a void in the room.

He'd missed the debates over the finer points of Quidditch vs. Football, Dean's ability to create witty caricatures of any staff, student or ghost. Merlin, even that small injection of humour would have been appreciated this year.

Seamus can't move. Dean doesn't have any family here to stay here like some of the others.

It's here that Mary Finnigan finds her son. Her eyes quickly scan him, double checking for injuries before hugging him around the shoulders gently.

"His family wouldn't know," Seamus breaks the silence, gesturing helplessly. "He's been out of contact with them this last year..." he trails off, his mouth going dry. That horrible job has fallen to him. He owed it to his friend to break this to his family himself. Seamus can't let some Ministry flunky drop this on the Thomases.

His mother doesn't say anything straight away, but Seamus feels her arm tighten momentarily around his shoulders.

She moves to pull him away, "Seamus, you need to rest," she says quietly. Seamus doesn't move.

"Dean..." She swallows, choking on her words a little. She'd liked Dean. "He'll be safe here, his family can be told soon, but not now. We all need rest. And your poor father must be going spare without any news."

Seamus concedes, and lets himself get pulled along.

Arriving home, Seamus barely registered his dad's relief before the exhaustion overtook the adrenaline still thrumming through his body.

The rest of the week was a haze, with only a couple things that stood out amongst the blur of activity within the wizarding community. Unfortunately, neither of them were pleasant.

Telling Dean's family about the Battle of Hogwarts was a particularly painful experience, and he'd needed all his Gryffindor courage to continue. His mother had offered to come, but he declined. Dean's sisters were sobbing, clinging to each other and his mother had cried silently as she listened to Seamus' tale. He could never forget the lost look in her eyes. Dean's stepfather listened silently, staring at his hands blankly, and Seamus caught a glimpse of a small wooden snitch in those hands. Dean had carved that during their third year, and had managed to animate it even, though that spell had worn off within another year.

One of the other things to stand out was the news of the deaths that followed the battle. He'd (maybe naively) thought that there would be no more deaths. Everyone would recover from their injuries.

Lavender Brown was among those that died from their injuries in the days after the Battle of Hogwarts. He'd seen her topple over that banister, only have Greyback attack her. Had helped pull her to safety after Hermione blasted the monster. Apparently, it had been in vain, and there was another funeral to attend.

Seamus now knew what people meant when they talked about survivor's guilt. He didn't feel that he'd done anything special to survive, so how had he been spared?

And even as the wounds of the year closed over, that thought continued to haunt Seamus long after the scars faded.

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><p>Thoughts?<p> 


	2. Dean: Comes Down to Blood

**Notes:** Dean was actually quite hard to write, I've discovered. Parts of this chapter I like, but joining those bits together... those parts I really don't like... may revise this later on.

Anyway, Dean's turn.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Dean – Comes Down to Blood<strong>

Dean dodged another curse from a black-robed figure as he ran towards the courtyard. Aiming blindly, another non-verbal _stupefy_ is sent in the direction the curse came from. He can see Seamus and Parvati struggling with another Death-Eater up head, and he fights to come to their aid. In the grips of battle-fever, it is easy to ignore the damage wrought to the familiar corridors of Hogwarts, much harder to ignore is the familiar faces falling never to rise again. His heart constricts when he sees his ex-girlfriend Ginny running through the mayhem (he pushes that aside, because he'd realised a while ago that for Ginny, it had always been about Harry).

Even while he's fighting, he can't quite believe the so-called importance of blood purity has come down to a war (again). It seems such a waste, and it clearly has no impact on magical abilities. Even with his own heritage, it didn't seem to make a difference to his own outlook. It was only the mania of the pure-bloods that determined the importance.

The year he turned eleven, his world had expanded in ways he'd never dreamed of.

In his family, he'd always had a vague sense that he was different. It wasn't anything he could pin down, so he'd ignored it. Immersed himself in football, became the protective older brother as his sisters began primary school, and amused his classmates and family with his cartoon versions of people they knew.

Then the letter came, and his world suddenly included witches, wizards and actual magic. Boarding school was an adjustment, and his first weeks were plagued with bouts of homesickness. Eventually he'd settled in though, adapted to this new world that he was a part of. That first summer, he'd come back with stories to enthral his sisters, amaze his dad and make his mum shake her head. He'd left out the complexity of explaining the drama with the Philosopher's Stone, or what he'd learnt about the dark history of the Wizarding world. He didn't want to give his family reason to keep him from Hogwarts.

While he loved his family, and shared as much as he could with them, there was much Dean didn't tell them. He skimmed over the Chamber of Secrets in second-year, and neglected to mention that the mad killer on the news the following summer was actually a dark wizard (or that he'd actually managed to get into Dean's dorm). Nor did he inform them that one of his best teachers had been a werewolf. He also realised, as the school was still in shock over Diggory's passing, that this was another thing he wasn't going to tell his family about. He only recognized the wisdom of this course of action when he heard that Seamus' mother was trying to keep Seamus from returning to Hogwarts.

It didn't matter if you believed Harry and Dumbledore or not, anyone with eyes could see that things were far from well. And it was going to come down to another war about blood purity. As a muggle-born, Dean was in a precarious position, and despite the surly attitude of his best friend, he was eager to see what Harry was doing with the proposed defence group. Partly because it was amusing to be carrying on right under Umbridge's toady nose, but practically, Dean suspected he was going to need his defensive spellwork.

Then the ministry changed its tune, and the wizarding world grudgingly and fearfully admitted Voldemort was once again at work. He felt he could no longer keep his family completely in the dark. He explained everything to his mother, who listened intently but silently as Dean talked. Worry was etched into her face as he finished, and Dean was surprised to see guilt in his mother's eyes.

"I should have told you everything as soon as you got your letter," she murmured softly.

Dean was puzzled. "Told me what?"

Sarah Thomas took a deep breath. "About your father."

Dean's confusion increased. "What's dad got to do with this?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not Alex, Dean. He and I married when you were a year old, and he adopted you as his own. Your biological father..." she trailed off. "Well, I don't know what happened to him."

His mouth was hanging open, he knew. He went to speak, but no sound emerged from his mouth at first.

"Why... Why are you only telling me this now?"

His mother bit her lip nervously. "Your father and I... we weren't together very long," she sighed. "He was a great guy, and we were so happy..."

"I knew there was something he was keeping back, one of his friends had let something slip about 'their world'..." Sarah ran her hand nervously through her hair. "I didn't really think anything of it until he disappeared."

"He abandoned you?" distaste tainted Dean's voice.

"No!" his mother responded immediately. "Well, I don't know..." she sighed again. "He just vanished. But I've never believed that he left us intentionally..."

Dean's face was arranged in a grimace of scepticism as his mother continued.

"But he never came back, and I met Alex, and it seemed pointless to keep waiting. Then you got your letter, and I wondered if he was part of the wizarding world. But it seemed too hard to explain then, so I kept my mouth shut."

"Wait, you think he was a wizard?" Dean's head was spinning. "Why?"

"The one friend of his I met, they argued when they thought I wasn't there. I remember the word muggle being used... and they mentioned a war..."

"The First Wizarding War," Dean said softly.

"...And now you're telling me that war's been looming these past through years... I realise I've been selfish keeping this to myself..."

"I might be a half-blood after all?" Dean had been stunned.

Eventually he had got up from the table, hugged his mother, and gone to his room. For some time he lay on his bed, thinking about what he'd just been told.

For six years, he'd considered himself a muggle-born. He'd been content with that, willing to ignore the slander from the Slytherins. He was proud of his muggle heritage. Then the revelation that his long gone father may have been a wizard temporarily threw his sense of identity. Then he realised it didn't matter. Not to him, not to his friends.

Then the unthinkable happened. Dumbledore was dead, the ministry was under Voldemort's control, and Dean knew he had to run. He had no proof that his biological father had been a wizard (he didn't need any personally, but Umbridge's commission would), so fronting up to the Muggle-born register would be suicidal.

His Gryffindor courage failed once again when it came to confronting his family. He explained the raw details in a letter to his mother, and stressed the need for them not to try and contact him. He argued to himself that it was better this way.

He was initially lucky in his avoidance of snatchers. A group of them formed, enabling them to double up protective enchantments and generally watch each other's backs. Ted, Dirk and Dean would discuss the war, and Dean found himself having to defend Harry to their goblin companions, whose trust of wizards in general was rather poor. He knew Harry well enough to know that Harry would never give up or run away, and he fully believed that whatever Harry was doing, he was helping in the war effort.

Then the snatchers finally caught up with them after months of dodging them. Greyback was vicious in his methods of capture, and only Dean and Griphook were left alive to be dragged away to Malfoy Manor. Having his wand forcibly taken from him left him strangely bereft after a year of never having it out of sight.

The hectic escape with Dobby, Luna, Harry, Ron and Hermione, followed by hiding at Shell Cottage, left Dean itching for action. Luna was able to help him forget some of his frustration with the odd things she would say. But that small sense of the normality of Hogwarts made him miss everything more.

When the word went out to prepare for battle at Hogwarts, even the lack of a wand was not going to keep him away. He would aquire a wand somehow.

Entering the Room of Requirement and finding all his classmates there filled him with a sense of joy he hadn't expected. Seamus enthusiastic greeting was returned with equal enthusiasm, and it was Seamus that helped him appropriate a wand off a fallen Death Eater in the opening chaos of the battle. The pair of them had then been split up, and Dean ended up tag-team duelling Dolohov with Parvati backing him up.

Then Parvati stumbled, hit by debris from a nearby explosion. Screams filled the air as combatants tried to avoid the shrapnel, and Dean dimly registered a roar of rage and despair across the other side of the room. Dolohov had recovered much quicker than expected, and was gleefully pointing his wand at Parvati's exposed side. Without thinking, Dean leapt to shield Parvati-

His world dissolved into black.

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><p>Thoughts? I know this is a bit rushed... please tell notify me of any issues with this chapter!<p> 


	3. Lavender: Torn Asunder

**Notes:** I know, long time since the last chapter. My life is crazy.

So, Lavender's turn. Another hard person to write, especially as she is supposed to be in a semi-concious state for most of this. I always thought that Lavender got a raw deal in some areas of fandom. So she was a hormonal teenage girl, that doesn't mean that she is a bimbo.

Also, I know that people have disagreed with Dean's death (and will about Lavender's too), because they aren't confirmed deaths. But they are not confirmed survivors either. Hence the lack of an AU label. If you can show me a credited source that shows otherwise, I'm more than happy to put that AU label there. But not before. Please stop telling me I'm wrong. I am not contradicting canon, only some people's fanon.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Lavender - Torn Asunder<strong>

Her world had dissolved into fiery pain.

She doesn't know how long she's been caught in this awful state of near-consciousness. The darkness fluttering beyond the fire filling her senses promises release, but that primal childhood fear of the dark stops her reaching out for it. Intuition tells her once she touches it, there is no return.

She tries to marshal her thoughts to distract her wandering mind. At first, she tries to force herself into wakefulness. She doesn't get very far before all she could feel was red hot pain overwhelming her.

No go on that idea then.

She then tries to listen to the blurry chaos that continues outside of her cocoon. She hears voices with varying levels of panic tainting their muffled tones, but can't hear any familiar voices, nor make out any actual words, and soon looses interest. She detects fear, but is not coherent enough to recognise the source of the voice's fear, nor the angry tones reprimanding them.

The present is too painful, too confusing and blurred for Lavender Brown, so she tries to recall what has happened, hoping to clear her own confusion.

She remembers the trio's return to Hogwarts, trading a few light-hearted barbs with Seamus while trying to quell the dread pooling in her stomach. Standing with Parvati and Padma while preparing for the battle ahead.

Most of the battle itself blended into a macabre blur. Defeat one Death Eater only to be faced with another. She had started off fighting with Parvati and Padma, but lost them in the confusion of battle. She ended up with a group of Ravenclaws, some of her year, some older former students.

Dodge, shield, curse. Dodge, curse, dodge, shield, run for your life. Watch each other's backs while darting out more curses, run some more when rubble explodes around you.

Lavender remembers a comment from Harry during one of the original DA meetings. That it was luck, intuition and good reflexes that saved you in battle more than knowing a lot of spells. She could see that in action today (yesterday? A few days ago?).

_Did everyone else survive?_

The thought stymies her momentarily. In this hazy world, which she is starting to think maybe potion-induced by healers, she has no way to know what has happened to her classmates. She assumes they won, otherwise she would most certainly be dead, rather than being treated. Unless of course, she already is dead, but she hurts too much for that to be true.

Despite what some people may think of her, Lavender Brown is no empty-headed bimbo (Even Hermione didn't really think that, once everyone's hormones had settled back down at least). She knows that good people will have been lost. She saw the bodies during the battle, but the battle-induced tunnel vision had prevented her from identifying anyone. Whether this is a good or a bad thing, she is not sure.

Of course, she could have taken the easy way out and evacuated with the younger years (well, those who actually complied with McGonagall's order).

But Gryffindors do not flee before a battle.

She knew the risks. She just chose to ignore them. She would not leave.

Once again, the Gryffindor students live up to the reckless nature they are so often accused of.

The Patil twins she hadn't seen since they were separated at the start of battle. She thought she'd seen Dean and Seamus early on too. Neville had been rushing around, trying to find Hannah she suspects, while blasting Death Eaters. Harry, Ron and Hermione she didn't see, but she remembers Hermione's voice shrieking to her as she'd fallen, fire filling her veins-

If she had been able to gasp, she would have.

The wall. The fire from bites and scratches as she fell with another being attacking her. She doesn't know who -_what_- hit her. She'd been momentarily distracted by Trelawney determinedly throwing crystal balls on to the Death Eaters below, and suddenly the air had been pushed out her lungs and her world tilted and then plummeted. Pain overtook her then, but the whirling dervish of her attacker was removed by a blast that coincided with her memory of Hermione's scream.

Then her memory is blank.

-"Waking up?" an unfamiliar voice says uncertainly.

"No!" says another voice "She's not ready to wake yet, give her another potion—stop that! She's no danger to you, silly girl, do your job!"-

The voices close by confuse her. It's like they're _afraid_ of her. Why, she can't...

No. _Nonononono..._

Grayback. It must have been Grayback. And that meant...

A thrill of horror brought Lavender to shrieking wakefulness. The healers around her immediately tried to force a hideous tasting concoction down her throat.

"Relax girl, you'll make it worse thrashing like this-" a commanding voice penetrated the teenager's brain.

With consciousness came a searing awareness of the open wounds on her body that mocked the pain she had felt in her semi-wakeful state.

She was a monster.

She wanted to cry, only to realise she had no strength left to do so. What could she possibly do now. She could hazard a guess that Professor Lupin had been treated as second-class most of his life, was that now to be her fate? To have people judge her on something she didn't choose without knowing _her_?

When she was lulled back into her hazy world between sleep and wakefulness, the darkness was nearer. The fear was still present, but Lavender chose to ignore it. She wanted the peaceful realm of sleep where she could hide for a while before facing herself.

But she wasn't able to see the darkness overtake her while she dreamt.

Lavender Brown never did get to see the scars left on her body.

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><p>As always, feedback is love. I know I struggled with the tense this time. Hope you enjoyed it.<p> 


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